It was left at his doorstep three weeks ago, in what might’ve been the sketchiest package delivery I’ve ever seen.
I imagine that the pair of lanky, neckbeard-sporting gentlemen nearly fractured their spines in the process of unloading the thing from their van. Ignoring the dolly, they opted to instead distribute its weight amongst themselves. They each clung to a side of the massive box and awkwardly shuffled across my neighbor's yard.
By the way their knees buckled with each step, I picked the mystery item for a refrigerator. Then again, I’d never known refrigerators to arrive encased in bright pink wrapping paper.
Before I continue, it’s important to note that my neighbor, Chance Wilkins, is mentally handicapped. He hadn’t always been that way, though. His mother, Sally, who owns the house, had shared a bit of information with me regarding his accident.
Years earlier, he had been run off the road by an absent-minded semi driver. He careened into a concrete toll booth at seventy miles per hour, crushing him within an inch of his life. Since the accident, Chance has undergone a dozen surgeries. Everything from reconstructive procedures to an emergency craniectomy as the result of a traumatic brain injury. Though he was able to understand everything that was said to him, he could no longer speak for himself. He would carry a dry erase board with him wherever he went. That way, he could easily and effectively communicate with anybody that he needed to.
Recently, his mother's health had taken a turn for the worse. Alzheimer's disease. It was decided that she would be relocated to a nursing home, and that Chance would try his hand at living independently. For the past few months now, that has been the case.
Living alone didn’t become an issue until about a week after Sally’s departure. I’d witnessed many of Chance's tantrums, but never to the extent that they ultimately got to. My bedroom window is no more than ten feet from his house, so I practically lived there with him. And I could hear fucking everything. Night after night, I’d be awoken by shrill screams, shattering glass, and slamming doors.
Thanks to the anonymity that Reddit offers, I can admit that I’m no angel, and that I wanted to knock on his door and politely ask him to cut the shit. I’ve got a full-time job that requires me to wake up no later than five in the morning and I cannot stand being deprived of my sleep.
However, I was warned by neighbors not to engage him when he gets that way, as it could lead to further issues. And as you can imagine, filing a noise complaint on a handicapped person is never a good look. The truth is, I don’t know what prompted Chance to act out. All that I know is that his tantrums seemed to temporarily cease upon the package's arrival. I’ve never been one to argue with a good thing, but I was damn curious about whatever the hell was in that box.
A few days later, as I was pulling into my driveway after work, I caught him just before he retreated indoors. My curiosity got the better of me. I cranked down the window of my shitty Ford Focus, and called out to him.
“Mr. Wilkins, the man of the hour!” I shouted.
“How are you doing today, man?”
He turned to face me. He was positively beaming. In all my years on Lloyd Street, and all my years of knowing Chance, I had never seen him smile so sincerely.
I smiled back at him.
“That's what I like to see! What's got you so happy, Chance?”
He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a marker.
He scrawled away on his dry erase board for a while before turning it in my direction.
I have been missing something for a very long time.
I didn’t know what he meant by this, nor did I have opportunity to inquire further. Without falter in his smile, he waved to me, spun on his heels, and walked inside.
I laughed to myself, as this interaction had turned out to be the most pleasant one I’d ever had with him. After all, a happy Chance leads to bountiful rest.
I slept soundly for the next week or sountil the music began.
I woke up in the middle of the night, sweating. My AC is broken. It’s on a timer and only spits out hot air most of the time. Annoyed, I reached over and opened my window.
I only noticed it as I was about to drift off again. From the direction of the Wilkins home, It sounded like somebody was playing a piano.
I looked at the clock.
2:58
Wonderful.
Chance had decided that three in the morning was the ideal time to get musical. I turned red. I was so aggravated that I bolted upright and leapt from the bed to grab my shoes.
As I put my jacket on, I noticed something that I hadn’t before. The Wilkins’ living room light was on.
I walked to the window and peered out, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever the hell he was getting up to in there. Through it, I could see the piano. My window is so close to their home that I could see the keys bouncing up and down on their own. Sally had mentioned owning a piano that reads sheet music, so I ruled any poltergeist activity out of the equation. Chance would have to answer for this himself.
Suddenly, he entered the living room. I noticed his dog walking sheepishly beside him. Its eyes were transfixed on a couch which faced my opposite. Much like my recent interaction with Chance, he looked cheery. He was smiling, even doing his best to dance to the music.
I sighed audibly, I’m sure.
Who would I be to interfere with such joy? Especially to a man who has been denied so much of it. I reassessed.
And then Chance did something that made me freeze.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a marker.
He walked to his dresser, retrieved his dry erase board, and he began writing.
I ducked faster than I knew I could move.
Had I been spotted?
I had that roller coaster feeling in my stomach. The feeling a person gets when they’re caught in a lie.
I slowly inched my way back up the wall and peered out the window once more. Chance’s dry erase board had turned to face me.
I love you
A strange feeling came over me.
Fortunately, Chance's gaze seemed to focus not on me, but on the couch.
There was somebody in that house with him. I returned my attention to the dog, who hadn’t moved a muscle. Her tail was tucked between her legs, and though she kept her head down, she refused to take her eyes off of the couch for a second. Certainly this person was unfamiliar?
I looked to the driveway, which remained empty. I had been home all weekend and failed to notice anybody other than Chance enter the house.
I took my shoes and jacket off and got back into bed.
As I stared at my ceiling, I thought about how none of this would be so strange if Chance wasn’t such a hermit. I had never seen him socialize with anybody outside of his immediate family. Regardless, he looked happy.
That night, I drifted asleep to the sound of Chance's laughter, which at the time, reaffirmed that I had made the right decision.
I was awoken again. This time by a crashing noise.
I looked at the clock.
It was four in the morning.
I heard the noise again, louder this time.
An odd, mechanical whirr droned from within.
Chance began yelling unintelligibly.
A chill shot down my spine.
What the fuck is going on?
A definite scraping noise slowly moved from one end of the Wilkins house to another.
I looked out of the window. Not a single light was on in the Wilkins home.
Thud…Thud… Thud…
I tried to collect myself.
Suddenly, the piano began to play itself again. And through the pitch-black darkness, I could make out the silhouette of a thin, very tall lady in Chance's living room.
She stood perfectly still before the piano.
Though I was in no danger, I could hear my own heartbeat pulsating through my temples.
I couldn’t look away.
And then she moved.
She made a break for the doorway, taking giant bounding steps. She moved as if she had no articulation below the knees. Like a circus clown on stilts. Despite this, she made ground fast, as evident by the pounding of her footsteps, which tore from the living room to the upstairs.
Chance yelled in protest. I’d heard that tone before. It's the same one he'd use when his mother would drag him out of the house for Church, or cook him something that he didn't like.
A few minutes later, I heard footsteps again.
The pair had walked back downstairs. They both made their way to the couch and sat down.
For thirty minutes I just watched as they sat there in the dark, with the same song playing over and over and over again.
After work that day, I saw Chance alone on his porch smoking a cigarette.
I got straight to business and pulled into his driveway. I thought long and hard about how to approach the situation, and figured it best to calmly talk it out.
Despite my preparations, I ended up spacing on where to begin, so I just went for it.
“Hey, Chance. Long night?” I asked
He made no attempt for the dry erase board.
He just sat there looking defeated.
“Listen, I’m not angry with you.”
Chance looked up at me, his eyes softened.
His lip began to twitch.
“It’s just that I’ve got a job. I need to wake up early and it's quite difficult to fall asleep while you're hosting a mosh pit in the dead of night.”
“Can we make a compromise? Let's say no piano parties after … eleven?”
That got his attention. He reached for his marker and began to write.
11:00 PM is a perfectly reasonable time to ask for some peace and quiet.
I hoped to god that he would agree to my terms.
Suddenly, Chance stopped writing. He paused for a second and looked up at me.
He erased his message and started over.
It only took him a few seconds.
He turned his dry erase board around so that I could read it.
Just take it, please.
I was taken aback.
I don’t know what sort of response I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that one.
“You want me to have your piano?” I asked
Chance nodded quickly, giving me a sort of half-smile.
I laughed. “Chance, I can’t take that from you.”
He made a face and raised his hands as if to say “Why not?”
“Well … I’ve got nowhere to put the thing. And I don’t want to take anything from you! I just came here to talk.” I said.
He began scrawling again.
Then sell it. I just want it gone.
He was putting me in an awkward position. I truly wanted nothing to do with his gift, as it seemed like a white elephant. However, I was starting to believe that the going rate for a self-playing piano may be worth my time.
I paused, thinking it over for a moment.
It seemed like a win-win. If I got the piano out of that house, I might be able to avoid any repeats of the previous night. Plus, some extra money in the bank always feels nice, right?
“It uh.. might take me a few days to get some people around. I can’t move the thing by myself.”
Chance looked almost offended. Quickly, he began writing.
His message was clear.
It’s got wheels. I'm stronger than I look.
The look he gave me was screaming “You’re a dick.”
And with that, we headed inside.
The place was an absolute sty. Sally’s gray wallpaper hung from the wall, shredded to bits.
The once spotless hardwood floor was coated in hundreds of black splotches, which I wasn’t eager to dodge with the piano. There were various sized holes punched through the walls, floors, even the ceiling.
“I like what you’ve done to the place.” I said.
Chance rubbed the back of his neck. He looked embarrassed.
We each grabbed an end of the piano.
“You sure you want to get rid of this, Chance? It looks pretty expensive.”
I reached down and pressed on a random key.
Just when I did, it sounded as if somebody started a car in the other room.
I jumped. Chance flinched.
“What the fuck was that, Chance?”
He shook his head back and forth rapidly.
I heard the same whirring as I did the previous night.
I got louder
“Chance, answer me please. What the hell is going on?”
Something began to move in the other room. Slowly, I heard it inch its way to the door.
Thud
The door flexed slightly inwards, but did not open.
I turned to face the direction of the noise. Ignoring my manners, I slowly began to walk towards it. I can’t explain the terror that I felt as I neared whatever was on the other side of that door. Just as I reached for the knob, Chance grabbed me by the arm.
I looked at him.
A single tear streamed down his face.
He tugged on my arm twice.
I stared back at him. He looked like he’d seen war.
He tugged on my arm again.
I couldn’t tell if he was warning me or pleading.
A slow scratching noise crept from the top of the doorframe to the bottom, chilling me to my core.
I agreed. I let him direct me back to the piano. Both of our hands shook as we guided it from his property to mine.
We exchanged goodbyes in the driveway.
I was about to finish the job myself. But just before I could push it inside, I noticed something. One of the piano's wheels was coated in the same black substance that covered the Wilkins’ floor.
I decided to spray it with a hose, as I didn’t want to get any closer than I had to.
It was only then that I realized what the substance was.
It was oil.
The rest of the week went smoothly. There was little noise from the Wilkins house, and I was sleeping just fine. It seemed that taking the piano off of Chance's hands worked out better than I expected it to.
I worked overtime last night. I didn't get home until nine, and I was absolutely dead.
After a shower, I decided to start off my weekend with a glass of whiskey.
For kicks, I loaded some of the Wilkins sheet music into the piano.
I listened to various songs for about an hour before I came across one that was far more worn than the others.I figured that probably meant that this specific song was a favorite in the Wilkins household. I was correct.
The song was called Lament. It was the same one playing in Chance's living room the previous week. Right about that time, the whiskey had made its way to my bladder. I slightly turned the music up so that it could follow me to the restroom. I had a little more than I should have, as walking in a straight line had become troublesome.
Something in my peripheral vision caught my attention. Through my bathroom window, I could make out the shape of a lady in Chance's living room. Though she appeared to be staring back at me, I could not make out her face in the darkness. She swayed back and forth at the hips slowly.
As I finished up, I walked to my lightswitch and flipped it off, but I did not leave. I just stood in the bathroom, shrouded in darkness.
What is with this bitch?
I got a sickening feeling as she slowly tilted her body backwards and slammed her face through the glass. I could now hear the noises she was emitting. Every motion she made was matched by a wet, hydraulic screeching.
I stood still as she advanced. Taking long strides, she clumsily made her way across Chance’s yard and into mine. As she approached my house I was able to make out her face.
Only then did I make the connection. The thing standing in my yard was no person. It was a mannequin. An inanimate object.
Despite that, it seemed to be searching for something, for no movement it made was without purpose.
I backed into my hallway. I didn’t know what to do.
Is there a correct person to call in a situation like this?
I reached into my pocket to grab my phone, but it wasn’t there. I must’ve left it on the piano.
The thing's head slowly buzzed in a semicircle until its eyes were fixed on me. I doubted that it could see me through the darkness, yet it seemed to stare right through me. Just then, it lunged at me, breaking into a sprint. I slammed the bathroom door and held it shut as the mannequin came crashing through my window. I heard it writhing about on the floor before clambering to its feet. It began to beat the door down.
Between strikes, it’d push against the door. I could hear the wood beginning to splinter.
And then it spoke.
“ Treat me like a lady!”
It sounded like it spoke through a synthesizer.
“Turn up the music! Treat me like a lady!”
Everything about the way that it spoke was wrong. When people talk, we do so with infliction.
This thing had no infliction. No tone. No soul.
I began to panic as it pushed harder against the door. I could hear its mechanical parts spinning rapidly each time it applied force. It began to pound again. The door wasn’t going to hold much longer.
As I wondered if I should give up and make a break for the front door, I noticed that the mannequin had stopped applying pressure. Unwilling to risk it, I did not let go.
I could hear it moving on the other side, lowering itself to the ground. I stood still.
My heart sank when it slid something under the door. I ignored it, not letting my focus stray from keeping the door shut. I sat there with a death grip on the door for what seemed like hours, but the mannequin made no further attempts on the door.
I could hear it rise to its feet, and leave through the window.
I was hyperventilating. With my head in my hands, I shifted my focus to the floor.
There before me, was Chance’s dry erase board, bearing only two words.
Please don’t

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It was left at his doorstep three weeks ago, in what might’ve been the sketchiest package delivery I’ve ever seen.
I imagine that the pair of lanky, neckbeard-sporting gentlemen nearly fractured their spines in the process of unloading the thing from their van. Ignoring the dolly, they opted to instead distribute its weight amongst themselves. They each clung to a side of the massive box and awkwardly shuffled across my neighbor's yard.
By the way their knees buckled with each step, I picked the mystery item for a refrigerator. Then again, I’d never known refrigerators to arrive encased in bright pink wrapping paper.
Before I continue, it’s important to note that my neighbor, Chance Wilkins, is mentally handicapped. He hadn’t always been that way, though. His mother, Sally, who owns the house, had shared a bit of information with me regarding his accident.
Years earlier, he had been run off the road by an absent-minded semi driver. He careened into a concrete toll booth at seventy miles per hour, crushing him within an inch of his life. Since the accident, Chance has undergone a dozen surgeries. Everything from reconstructive procedures to an emergency craniectomy as the result of a traumatic brain injury. Though he was able to understand everything that was said to him, he could no longer speak for himself. He would carry a dry erase board with him wherever he went. That way, he could easily and effectively communicate with anybody that he needed to.
Recently, his mother's health had taken a turn for the worse. Alzheimer's disease. It was decided that she would be relocated to a nursing home, and that Chance would try his hand at living independently. For the past few months now, that has been the case.
Living alone didn’t become an issue until about a week after Sally’s departure. I’d witnessed many of Chance's tantrums, but never to the extent that they ultimately got to. My bedroom window is no more than ten feet from his house, so I practically lived there with him. And I could hear fucking everything. Night after night, I’d be awoken by shrill screams, shattering glass, and slamming doors.
Thanks to the anonymity that Reddit offers, I can admit that I’m no angel, and that I wanted to knock on his door and politely ask him to cut the shit. I’ve got a full-time job that requires me to wake up no later than five in the morning and I cannot stand being deprived of my sleep.
However, I was warned by neighbors not to engage him when he gets that way, as it could lead to further issues. And as you can imagine, filing a noise complaint on a handicapped person is never a good look. The truth is, I don’t know what prompted Chance to act out. All that I know is that his tantrums seemed to temporarily cease upon the package's arrival. I’ve never been one to argue with a good thing, but I was damn curious about whatever the hell was in that box.
A few days later, as I was pulling into my driveway after work, I caught him just before he retreated indoors. My curiosity got the better of me. I cranked down the window of my shitty Ford Focus, and called out to him.
“Mr. Wilkins, the man of the hour!” I shouted.
“How are you doing today, man?”
He turned to face me. He was positively beaming. In all my years on Lloyd Street, and all my years of knowing Chance, I had never seen him smile so sincerely.
I smiled back at him.
“That's what I like to see! What's got you so happy, Chance?”
He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a marker.
He scrawled away on his dry erase board for a while before turning it in my direction.
I have been missing something for a very long time.
I didn’t know what he meant by this, nor did I have opportunity to inquire further. Without falter in his smile, he waved to me, spun on his heels, and walked inside.
I laughed to myself, as this interaction had turned out to be the most pleasant one I’d ever had with him. After all, a happy Chance leads to bountiful rest.
I slept soundly for the next week or sountil the music began.
I woke up in the middle of the night, sweating. My AC is broken. It’s on a timer and only spits out hot air most of the time. Annoyed, I reached over and opened my window.
I only noticed it as I was about to drift off again. From the direction of the Wilkins home, It sounded like somebody was playing a piano.
I looked at the clock.
2:58
Wonderful.
Chance had decided that three in the morning was the ideal time to get musical. I turned red. I was so aggravated that I bolted upright and leapt from the bed to grab my shoes.
As I put my jacket on, I noticed something that I hadn’t before. The Wilkins’ living room light was on.
I walked to the window and peered out, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever the hell he was getting up to in there. Through it, I could see the piano. My window is so close to their home that I could see the keys bouncing up and down on their own. Sally had mentioned owning a piano that reads sheet music, so I ruled any poltergeist activity out of the equation. Chance would have to answer for this himself.
Suddenly, he entered the living room. I noticed his dog walking sheepishly beside him. Its eyes were transfixed on a couch which faced my opposite. Much like my recent interaction with Chance, he looked cheery. He was smiling, even doing his best to dance to the music.
I sighed audibly, I’m sure.
Who would I be to interfere with such joy? Especially to a man who has been denied so much of it. I reassessed.
And then Chance did something that made me freeze.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a marker.
He walked to his dresser, retrieved his dry erase board, and he began writing.
I ducked faster than I knew I could move.
Had I been spotted?
I had that roller coaster feeling in my stomach. The feeling a person gets when they’re caught in a lie.
I slowly inched my way back up the wall and peered out the window once more. Chance’s dry erase board had turned to face me.
I love you
A strange feeling came over me.
Fortunately, Chance's gaze seemed to focus not on me, but on the couch.
There was somebody in that house with him. I returned my attention to the dog, who hadn’t moved a muscle. Her tail was tucked between her legs, and though she kept her head down, she refused to take her eyes off of the couch for a second. Certainly this person was unfamiliar?
I looked to the driveway, which remained empty. I had been home all weekend and failed to notice anybody other than Chance enter the house.
I took my shoes and jacket off and got back into bed.
As I stared at my ceiling, I thought about how none of this would be so strange if Chance wasn’t such a hermit. I had never seen him socialize with anybody outside of his immediate family. Regardless, he looked happy.
That night, I drifted asleep to the sound of Chance's laughter, which at the time, reaffirmed that I had made the right decision.
I was awoken again. This time by a crashing noise.
I looked at the clock.
It was four in the morning.
I heard the noise again, louder this time.
An odd, mechanical whirr droned from within.
Chance began yelling unintelligibly.
A chill shot down my spine.
What the fuck is going on?
A definite scraping noise slowly moved from one end of the Wilkins house to another.
I looked out of the window. Not a single light was on in the Wilkins home.
Thud…Thud… Thud…
I tried to collect myself.
Suddenly, the piano began to play itself again. And through the pitch-black darkness, I could make out the silhouette of a thin, very tall lady in Chance's living room.
She stood perfectly still before the piano.
Though I was in no danger, I could hear my own heartbeat pulsating through my temples.
I couldn’t look away.
And then she moved.
She made a break for the doorway, taking giant bounding steps. She moved as if she had no articulation below the knees. Like a circus clown on stilts. Despite this, she made ground fast, as evident by the pounding of her footsteps, which tore from the living room to the upstairs.
Chance yelled in protest. I’d heard that tone before. It's the same one he'd use when his mother would drag him out of the house for Church, or cook him something that he didn't like.
A few minutes later, I heard footsteps again.
The pair had walked back downstairs. They both made their way to the couch and sat down.
For thirty minutes I just watched as they sat there in the dark, with the same song playing over and over and over again.
After work that day, I saw Chance alone on his porch smoking a cigarette.
I got straight to business and pulled into his driveway. I thought long and hard about how to approach the situation, and figured it best to calmly talk it out.
Despite my preparations, I ended up spacing on where to begin, so I just went for it.
“Hey, Chance. Long night?” I asked
He made no attempt for the dry erase board.
He just sat there looking defeated.
“Listen, I’m not angry with you.”
Chance looked up at me, his eyes softened.
His lip began to twitch.
“It’s just that I’ve got a job. I need to wake up early and it's quite difficult to fall asleep while you're hosting a mosh pit in the dead of night.”
“Can we make a compromise? Let's say no piano parties after … eleven?”
That got his attention. He reached for his marker and began to write.
11:00 PM is a perfectly reasonable time to ask for some peace and quiet.
I hoped to god that he would agree to my terms.
Suddenly, Chance stopped writing. He paused for a second and looked up at me.
He erased his message and started over.
It only took him a few seconds.
He turned his dry erase board around so that I could read it.
Just take it, please.
I was taken aback.
I don’t know what sort of response I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that one.
“You want me to have your piano?” I asked
Chance nodded quickly, giving me a sort of half-smile.
I laughed. “Chance, I can’t take that from you.”
He made a face and raised his hands as if to say “Why not?”
“Well … I’ve got nowhere to put the thing. And I don’t want to take anything from you! I just came here to talk.” I said.
He began scrawling again.
Then sell it. I just want it gone.
He was putting me in an awkward position. I truly wanted nothing to do with his gift, as it seemed like a white elephant. However, I was starting to believe that the going rate for a self-playing piano may be worth my time.
I paused, thinking it over for a moment.
It seemed like a win-win. If I got the piano out of that house, I might be able to avoid any repeats of the previous night. Plus, some extra money in the bank always feels nice, right?
“It uh.. might take me a few days to get some people around. I can’t move the thing by myself.”
Chance looked almost offended. Quickly, he began writing.
His message was clear.
It’s got wheels. I'm stronger than I look.
The look he gave me was screaming “You’re a dick.”
And with that, we headed inside.
The place was an absolute sty. Sally’s gray wallpaper hung from the wall, shredded to bits.
The once spotless hardwood floor was coated in hundreds of black splotches, which I wasn’t eager to dodge with the piano. There were various sized holes punched through the walls, floors, even the ceiling.
“I like what you’ve done to the place.” I said.
Chance rubbed the back of his neck. He looked embarrassed.
We each grabbed an end of the piano.
“You sure you want to get rid of this, Chance? It looks pretty expensive.”
I reached down and pressed on a random key.
Just when I did, it sounded as if somebody started a car in the other room.
I jumped. Chance flinched.
“What the fuck was that, Chance?”
He shook his head back and forth rapidly.
I heard the same whirring as I did the previous night.
I got louder
“Chance, answer me please. What the hell is going on?”
Something began to move in the other room. Slowly, I heard it inch its way to the door.
Thud
The door flexed slightly inwards, but did not open.
I turned to face the direction of the noise. Ignoring my manners, I slowly began to walk towards it. I can’t explain the terror that I felt as I neared whatever was on the other side of that door. Just as I reached for the knob, Chance grabbed me by the arm.
I looked at him.
A single tear streamed down his face.
He tugged on my arm twice.
I stared back at him. He looked like he’d seen war.
He tugged on my arm again.
I couldn’t tell if he was warning me or pleading.
A slow scratching noise crept from the top of the doorframe to the bottom, chilling me to my core.
I agreed. I let him direct me back to the piano. Both of our hands shook as we guided it from his property to mine.
We exchanged goodbyes in the driveway.
I was about to finish the job myself. But just before I could push it inside, I noticed something. One of the piano's wheels was coated in the same black substance that covered the Wilkins’ floor.
I decided to spray it with a hose, as I didn’t want to get any closer than I had to.
It was only then that I realized what the substance was.
It was oil.
The rest of the week went smoothly. There was little noise from the Wilkins house, and I was sleeping just fine. It seemed that taking the piano off of Chance's hands worked out better than I expected it to.
I worked overtime last night. I didn't get home until nine, and I was absolutely dead.
After a shower, I decided to start off my weekend with a glass of whiskey.
For kicks, I loaded some of the Wilkins sheet music into the piano.
I listened to various songs for about an hour before I came across one that was far more worn than the others.I figured that probably meant that this specific song was a favorite in the Wilkins household. I was correct.
The song was called Lament. It was the same one playing in Chance's living room the previous week. Right about that time, the whiskey had made its way to my bladder. I slightly turned the music up so that it could follow me to the restroom. I had a little more than I should have, as walking in a straight line had become troublesome.
Something in my peripheral vision caught my attention. Through my bathroom window, I could make out the shape of a lady in Chance's living room. Though she appeared to be staring back at me, I could not make out her face in the darkness. She swayed back and forth at the hips slowly.
As I finished up, I walked to my lightswitch and flipped it off, but I did not leave. I just stood in the bathroom, shrouded in darkness.
What is with this bitch?
I got a sickening feeling as she slowly tilted her body backwards and slammed her face through the glass. I could now hear the noises she was emitting. Every motion she made was matched by a wet, hydraulic screeching.
I stood still as she advanced. Taking long strides, she clumsily made her way across Chance’s yard and into mine. As she approached my house I was able to make out her face.
Only then did I make the connection. The thing standing in my yard was no person. It was a mannequin. An inanimate object.
Despite that, it seemed to be searching for something, for no movement it made was without purpose.
I backed into my hallway. I didn’t know what to do.
Is there a correct person to call in a situation like this?
I reached into my pocket to grab my phone, but it wasn’t there. I must’ve left it on the piano.
The thing's head slowly buzzed in a semicircle until its eyes were fixed on me. I doubted that it could see me through the darkness, yet it seemed to stare right through me. Just then, it lunged at me, breaking into a sprint. I slammed the bathroom door and held it shut as the mannequin came crashing through my window. I heard it writhing about on the floor before clambering to its feet. It began to beat the door down.
Between strikes, it’d push against the door. I could hear the wood beginning to splinter.
And then it spoke.
“ Treat me like a lady!”
It sounded like it spoke through a synthesizer.
“Turn up the music! Treat me like a lady!”
Everything about the way that it spoke was wrong. When people talk, we do so with infliction.
This thing had no infliction. No tone. No soul.
I began to panic as it pushed harder against the door. I could hear its mechanical parts spinning rapidly each time it applied force. It began to pound again. The door wasn’t going to hold much longer.
As I wondered if I should give up and make a break for the front door, I noticed that the mannequin had stopped applying pressure. Unwilling to risk it, I did not let go.
I could hear it moving on the other side, lowering itself to the ground. I stood still.
My heart sank when it slid something under the door. I ignored it, not letting my focus stray from keeping the door shut. I sat there with a death grip on the door for what seemed like hours, but the mannequin made no further attempts on the door.
I could hear it rise to its feet, and leave through the window.
I was hyperventilating. With my head in my hands, I shifted my focus to the floor.
There before me, was Chance’s dry erase board, bearing only two words.
Please don’t

Hi folks!
Centurion Gaming has been our stable home since mid-2020, our hope is to provide the Ark experience that all of our players want rather than just what our admin players want
We have a few dinos mods including Krakens better dinos and additional aberrant dinos
We have a few deko mods including ECO’s RP, ECO, gardens
We have a couple of building mods in the shape of CKF:R and CKF:SF
Custom cross ark inventories to access all your stuff from any map
We have lots of QoL mods and plugins from using awesome teleporters to help you get around to crafting skill potions
While we have a few more rules than I would like, the basic principle is not to cause other players (or the servers) a bad day!
We try to keep our overall mod size realistic for our players' load time but we want to provide the functionality that people want
Our playing experience is shaped by all of our members through suggestions, feedback, and polls. We know that we need the input of our community to guide us to be able to maintain and improve the experience for our community
If this sounds like something that you would like to help us with and make a few friends on the way then please visit us and see if it fits what you want from your server
unlike some other servers we wont leave the standing naked if you lose your items from an Ark bug, we pride ourselves on listening to our players and helping if we can
We also have an server with our paragon trading and paragon refund system
​

CKF:SF	CKF:R	Eco RP
Eco Gardens	KBD	AAD
Shiny!	S+	Awesome Spyglass
Awesome Teleporters	Lethals Reusables	Better Horde Mode
Best Egg	Better Waypoints	Inventory backup
Auto run	TruTek	Death Helper

​
Rates & Settings:
• 2x XP
• 4x Harvesting
• 4x Taming
• 24x Egg Hatch
• 8/12x Mature
• Max Dino Level 150
• Max Player Level 180 with Ascension & Chibi
• 1.5 Weight Points Per Level
• Tribe Wars ON, Friendly Fire ON
• No Resource Blocking / Artifact Cave Building
• Genesis Flyers Enabled
• Unlimited Mindwipes, No Respawn Animations
​
​
https://discord.gg/bgDbUDJGVz
https://centurion-gaming.com
​

Hi folks!
Centurion Gaming has been our stable home since mid-2020, our hope is to provide the Ark experience that all of our players want rather than just what our admin players want
We have a few dinos mods including Krakens better dinos and additional aberrant dinos
We have a few deko mods including ECO’s RP, ECO, gardens
We have a couple of building mods in the shape of CKF:R and CKF:SF
Custom cross ark inventories to access all your stuff from any map
We have lots of QoL mods and plugins from using awesome teleporters to help you get around to crafting skill potions
While we have a few more rules than I would like, the basic principle is not to cause other players (or the servers) a bad day!
We try to keep our overall mod size realistic for our players' load time but we want to provide the functionality that people want
Our playing experience is shaped by all of our members through suggestions, feedback, and polls. We know that we need the input of our community to guide us to be able to maintain and improve the experience for our community
If this sounds like something that you would like to help us with and make a few friends on the way then please visit us and see if it fits what you want from your server
unlike some other servers we wont leave the standing naked if you lose your items from an Ark bug, we pride ourselves on listening to our players and helping if we can
We also have an server with our paragon trading and paragon refund system
​

CKF:SF	CKF:R	Eco RP
Eco Gardens	KBD	AAD
Shiny!	S+	Awesome Spyglass
Awesome Teleporters	Lethals Reusables	Better Horde Mode
Best Egg	Better Waypoints	Inventory backup
Auto run	TruTek	Death Helper

​
Rates & Settings:
• 2x XP
• 4x Harvesting
• 4x Taming
• 24x Egg Hatch
• 8/12x Mature
• Max Dino Level 150
• Max Player Level 180 with Ascension & Chibi
• 1.5 Weight Points Per Level
• Tribe Wars ON, Friendly Fire ON
• No Resource Blocking / Artifact Cave Building
• Genesis Flyers Enabled
• Unlimited Mindwipes, No Respawn Animations
​
​
https://discord.gg/bgDbUDJGVz
https://centurion-gaming.com

Hi folks!
Centurion Gaming has been our stable home since mid-2020, our hope is to provide the Ark experience that all of our players want rather than just what our admin players want
We have a few dinos mods including Krakens better dinos and additional aberrant dinos
We have a few deko mods including ECO’s RP, ECO, gardens
We have a couple of building mods in the shape of CKF:R and CKF:SF
Custom cross ark inventories to access all your stuff from any map
We have lots of QoL mods and plugins from using awesome teleporters to help you get around to crafting skill potions
While we have a few more rules than I would like, the basic principle is not to cause other players (or the servers) a bad day!
We try to keep our overall mod size realistic for our players' load time but we want to provide the functionality that people want
Our playing experience is shaped by all of our members through suggestions, feedback, and polls. We know that we need the input of our community to guide us to be able to maintain and improve the experience for our community
If this sounds like something that you would like to help us with and make a few friends on the way then please visit us and see if it fits what you want from your server
unlike some other servers we wont leave the standing naked if you lose your items from an Ark bug, we pride ourselves on listening to our players and helping if we can
We also have an server with our paragon trading and paragon refund system
​

CKF:SF	CKF:R	Eco RP
Eco Gardens	KBD	AAD
Shiny!	S+	Awesome Spyglass
Awesome Teleporters	Lethals Reusables	Better Horde Mode
Best Egg	Better Waypoints	Inventory backup
Auto run	TruTek	Death Helper

​
Rates & Settings:
• 2x XP
• 4x Harvesting
• 4x Taming
• 24x Egg Hatch
• 8/12x Mature
• Max Dino Level 150
• Max Player Level 180 with Ascension & Chibi
• 1.5 Weight Points Per Level
• Tribe Wars ON, Friendly Fire ON
• No Resource Blocking / Artifact Cave Building
• Genesis Flyers Enabled
• Unlimited Mindwipes, No Respawn Animations
​
​
https://discord.gg/bgDbUDJGVz
https://centurion-gaming.com

I have the Google Nest Wifi AC2200 connected to my fiber ONT. I also have half a dozen Google Wifi NLS-1304-25 hockey pucks throughout our home. (It's extremely old, and plaster walls throughout make it a massive Faraday Cage.) There's CAT6 from the router to the very far end of the house to a puck. There are wifi pucks throughout in between. Things work pretty well; we get great speeds all over the house. I'm outgrowing the router itself.
The typical issues with Google Wifi over the last couple of years are annoying enough. Now I'm running into actual limitations. I'm trying to set up Pi-Hole and realizing the problem with being unable to turn off DHCP Routing. (Details here if you care for backstory.)
Other annoyances come from reaching a point where my "homelab" warrants wanting to manage my DNS more. Pausing working on my network to make my way through the same native Google Home app to turn down the lights, 15 navigations away and back to LAN settings, is absurd. I need a freakin WebUI!!!
I need a real router. I don't want to spend real money on this problem. I want to keep and leverage the mesh I already have. Ideally, I would purchase a cheap consumer router and manage the physical hardware already in place. Is this a possibility?

It was left at his doorstep three weeks ago, in what might’ve been the sketchiest package delivery I’ve ever seen.
I imagine that the pair of lanky, neckbeard-sporting gentlemen nearly fractured their spines in the process of unloading the thing from their van. Ignoring the dolly, they opted to instead distribute its weight amongst themselves. They each clung to a side of the massive box and awkwardly shuffled across my neighbor's yard.
By the way their knees buckled with each step, I picked the mystery item for a refrigerator. Then again, I’d never known refrigerators to arrive encased in bright pink wrapping paper.
Before I continue, it’s important to note that my neighbor, Chance Wilkins, is mentally handicapped. He hadn’t always been that way, though. His mother, Sally, who owns the house, had shared a bit of information with me regarding his accident.
Years earlier, he had been run off the road by an absent-minded semi driver. He careened into a concrete toll booth at seventy miles per hour, crushing him within an inch of his life. Since the accident, Chance has undergone a dozen surgeries. Everything from reconstructive procedures to an emergency craniectomy as the result of a traumatic brain injury. Though he was able to understand everything that was said to him, he could no longer speak for himself. He would carry a dry erase board with him wherever he went. That way, he could easily and effectively communicate with anybody that he needed to.
Recently, his mother's health had taken a turn for the worse. Alzheimer's disease. It was decided that she would be relocated to a nursing home, and that Chance would try his hand at living independently. For the past few months now, that has been the case.
Living alone didn’t become an issue until about a week after Sally’s departure. I’d witnessed many of Chance's tantrums, but never to the extent that they ultimately got to. My bedroom window is no more than ten feet from his house, so I practically lived there with him. And I could hear fucking everything. Night after night, I’d be awoken by shrill screams, shattering glass, and slamming doors.
Thanks to the anonymity that Reddit offers, I can admit that I’m no angel, and that I wanted to knock on his door and politely ask him to cut the shit. I’ve got a full-time job that requires me to wake up no later than five in the morning and I cannot stand being deprived of my sleep.
However, I was warned by neighbors not to engage him when he gets that way, as it could lead to further issues. And as you can imagine, filing a noise complaint on a handicapped person is never a good look. The truth is, I don’t know what prompted Chance to act out. All that I know is that his tantrums seemed to temporarily cease upon the package's arrival. I’ve never been one to argue with a good thing, but I was damn curious about whatever the hell was in that box.
A few days later, as I was pulling into my driveway after work, I caught him just before he retreated indoors. My curiosity got the better of me. I cranked down the window of my shitty Ford Focus, and called out to him.
“Mr. Wilkins, the man of the hour!” I shouted.
“How are you doing today, man?”
He turned to face me. He was positively beaming. In all my years on Lloyd Street, and all my years of knowing Chance, I had never seen him smile so sincerely.
I smiled back at him.
“That's what I like to see! What's got you so happy, Chance?”
He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a marker.
He scrawled away on his dry erase board for a while before turning it in my direction.
I have been missing something for a very long time.
I didn’t know what he meant by this, nor did I have opportunity to inquire further. Without falter in his smile, he waved to me, spun on his heels, and walked inside.
I laughed to myself, as this interaction had turned out to be the most pleasant one I’d ever had with him. After all, a happy Chance leads to bountiful rest.
I slept soundly for the next week or sountil the music began.
I woke up in the middle of the night, sweating. My AC is broken. It’s on a timer and only spits out hot air most of the time. Annoyed, I reached over and opened my window.
I only noticed it as I was about to drift off again. From the direction of the Wilkins home, It sounded like somebody was playing a piano.
I looked at the clock.
2:58
Wonderful.
Chance had decided that three in the morning was the ideal time to get musical. I turned red. I was so aggravated that I bolted upright and leapt from the bed to grab my shoes.
As I put my jacket on, I noticed something that I hadn’t before. The Wilkins’ living room light was on.
I walked to the window and peered out, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever the hell he was getting up to in there. Through it, I could see the piano. My window is so close to their home that I could see the keys bouncing up and down on their own. Sally had mentioned owning a piano that reads sheet music, so I ruled any poltergeist activity out of the equation. Chance would have to answer for this himself.
Suddenly, he entered the living room. I noticed his dog walking sheepishly beside him. Its eyes were transfixed on a couch which faced my opposite. Much like my recent interaction with Chance, he looked cheery. He was smiling, even doing his best to dance to the music.
I sighed audibly, I’m sure.
Who would I be to interfere with such joy? Especially to a man who has been denied so much of it. I reassessed.
And then Chance did something that made me freeze.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a marker.
He walked to his dresser, retrieved his dry erase board, and he began writing.
I ducked faster than I knew I could move.
Had I been spotted?
I had that roller coaster feeling in my stomach. The feeling a person gets when they’re caught in a lie.
I slowly inched my way back up the wall and peered out the window once more. Chance’s dry erase board had turned to face me.
I love you
A strange feeling came over me.
Fortunately, Chance's gaze seemed to focus not on me, but on the couch.
There was somebody in that house with him. I returned my attention to the dog, who hadn’t moved a muscle. Her tail was tucked between her legs, and though she kept her head down, she refused to take her eyes off of the couch for a second. Certainly this person was unfamiliar?
I looked to the driveway, which remained empty. I had been home all weekend and failed to notice anybody other than Chance enter the house.
I took my shoes and jacket off and got back into bed.
As I stared at my ceiling, I thought about how none of this would be so strange if Chance wasn’t such a hermit. I had never seen him socialize with anybody outside of his immediate family. Regardless, he looked happy.
That night, I drifted asleep to the sound of Chance's laughter, which at the time, reaffirmed that I had made the right decision.
I was awoken again. This time by a crashing noise.
I looked at the clock.
It was four in the morning.
I heard the noise again, louder this time.
An odd, mechanical whirr droned from within.
Chance began yelling unintelligibly.
A chill shot down my spine.
What the fuck is going on?
A definite scraping noise slowly moved from one end of the Wilkins house to another.
I looked out of the window. Not a single light was on in the Wilkins home.
Thud…Thud… Thud…
I tried to collect myself.
Suddenly, the piano began to play itself again. And through the pitch-black darkness, I could make out the silhouette of a thin, very tall lady in Chance's living room.
She stood perfectly still before the piano.
Though I was in no danger, I could hear my own heartbeat pulsating through my temples.
I couldn’t look away.
And then she moved.
She made a break for the doorway, taking giant bounding steps. She moved as if she had no articulation below the knees. Like a circus clown on stilts. Despite this, she made ground fast, as evident by the pounding of her footsteps, which tore from the living room to the upstairs.
Chance yelled in protest. I’d heard that tone before. It's the same one he'd use when his mother would drag him out of the house for Church, or cook him something that he didn't like.
A few minutes later, I heard footsteps again.
The pair had walked back downstairs. They both made their way to the couch and sat down.
For thirty minutes I just watched as they sat there in the dark, with the same song playing over and over and over again.
After work that day, I saw Chance alone on his porch smoking a cigarette.
I got straight to business and pulled into his driveway. I thought long and hard about how to approach the situation, and figured it best to calmly talk it out.
Despite my preparations, I ended up spacing on where to begin, so I just went for it.
“Hey, Chance. Long night?” I asked
He made no attempt for the dry erase board.
He just sat there looking defeated.
“Listen, I’m not angry with you.”
Chance looked up at me, his eyes softened.
His lip began to twitch.
“It’s just that I’ve got a job. I need to wake up early and it's quite difficult to fall asleep while you're hosting a mosh pit in the dead of night.”
“Can we make a compromise? Let's say no piano parties after … eleven?”
That got his attention. He reached for his marker and began to write.
11:00 PM is a perfectly reasonable time to ask for some peace and quiet.
I hoped to god that he would agree to my terms.
Suddenly, Chance stopped writing. He paused for a second and looked up at me.
He erased his message and started over.
It only took him a few seconds.
He turned his dry erase board around so that I could read it.
Just take it, please.
I was taken aback.
I don’t know what sort of response I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that one.
“You want me to have your piano?” I asked
Chance nodded quickly, giving me a sort of half-smile.
I laughed. “Chance, I can’t take that from you.”
He made a face and raised his hands as if to say “Why not?”
“Well … I’ve got nowhere to put the thing. And I don’t want to take anything from you! I just came here to talk.” I said.
He began scrawling again.
Then sell it. I just want it gone.
He was putting me in an awkward position. I truly wanted nothing to do with his gift, as it seemed like a white elephant. However, I was starting to believe that the going rate for a self-playing piano may be worth my time.
I paused, thinking it over for a moment.
It seemed like a win-win. If I got the piano out of that house, I might be able to avoid any repeats of the previous night. Plus, some extra money in the bank always feels nice, right?
“It uh.. might take me a few days to get some people around. I can’t move the thing by myself.”
Chance looked almost offended. Quickly, he began writing.
His message was clear.
It’s got wheels. I'm stronger than I look.
The look he gave me was screaming “You’re a dick.”
And with that, we headed inside.
The place was an absolute sty. Sally’s gray wallpaper hung from the wall, shredded to bits.
The once spotless hardwood floor was coated in hundreds of black splotches, which I wasn’t eager to dodge with the piano. There were various sized holes punched through the walls, floors, even the ceiling.
“I like what you’ve done to the place.” I said.
Chance rubbed the back of his neck. He looked embarrassed.
We each grabbed an end of the piano.
“You sure you want to get rid of this, Chance? It looks pretty expensive.”
I reached down and pressed on a random key.
Just when I did, it sounded as if somebody started a car in the other room.
I jumped. Chance flinched.
“What the fuck was that, Chance?”
He shook his head back and forth rapidly.
I heard the same whirring as I did the previous night.
I got louder
“Chance, answer me please. What the hell is going on?”
Something began to move in the other room. Slowly, I heard it inch its way to the door.
Thud
The door flexed slightly inwards, but did not open.
I turned to face the direction of the noise. Ignoring my manners, I slowly began to walk towards it. I can’t explain the terror that I felt as I neared whatever was on the other side of that door. Just as I reached for the knob, Chance grabbed me by the arm.
I looked at him.
A single tear streamed down his face.
He tugged on my arm twice.
I stared back at him. He looked like he’d seen war.
He tugged on my arm again.
I couldn’t tell if he was warning me or pleading.
A slow scratching noise crept from the top of the doorframe to the bottom, chilling me to my core.
I agreed. I let him direct me back to the piano. Both of our hands shook as we guided it from his property to mine.
We exchanged goodbyes in the driveway.
I was about to finish the job myself. But just before I could push it inside, I noticed something. One of the piano's wheels was coated in the same black substance that covered the Wilkins’ floor.
I decided to spray it with a hose, as I didn’t want to get any closer than I had to.
It was only then that I realized what the substance was.
It was oil.
The rest of the week went smoothly. There was little noise from the Wilkins house, and I was sleeping just fine. It seemed that taking the piano off of Chance's hands worked out better than I expected it to.
I worked overtime last night. I didn't get home until nine, and I was absolutely dead.
After a shower, I decided to start off my weekend with a glass of whiskey.
For kicks, I loaded some of the Wilkins sheet music into the piano.
I listened to various songs for about an hour before I came across one that was far more worn than the others.I figured that probably meant that this specific song was a favorite in the Wilkins household. I was correct.
The song was called Lament. It was the same one playing in Chance's living room the previous week. Right about that time, the whiskey had made its way to my bladder. I slightly turned the music up so that it could follow me to the restroom. I had a little more than I should have, as walking in a straight line had become troublesome.
Something in my peripheral vision caught my attention. Through my bathroom window, I could make out the shape of a lady in Chance's living room. Though she appeared to be staring back at me, I could not make out her face in the darkness. She swayed back and forth at the hips slowly.
As I finished up, I walked to my lightswitch and flipped it off, but I did not leave. I just stood in the bathroom, shrouded in darkness.
What is with this bitch?
I got a sickening feeling as she slowly tilted her body backwards and slammed her face through the glass. I could now hear the noises she was emitting. Every motion she made was matched by a wet, hydraulic screeching.
I stood still as she advanced. Taking long strides, she clumsily made her way across Chance’s yard and into mine. As she approached my house I was able to make out her face.
Only then did I make the connection. The thing standing in my yard was no person. It was a mannequin. An inanimate object.
Despite that, it seemed to be searching for something, for no movement it made was without purpose.
I backed into my hallway. I didn’t know what to do.
Is there a correct person to call in a situation like this?
I reached into my pocket to grab my phone, but it wasn’t there. I must’ve left it on the piano.
The thing's head slowly buzzed in a semicircle until its eyes were fixed on me. I doubted that it could see me through the darkness, yet it seemed to stare right through me. Just then, it lunged at me, breaking into a sprint. I slammed the bathroom door and held it shut as the mannequin came crashing through my window. I heard it writhing about on the floor before clambering to its feet. It began to beat the door down.
Between strikes, it’d push against the door. I could hear the wood beginning to splinter.
And then it spoke.
“ Treat me like a lady!”
It sounded like it spoke through a synthesizer.
“Turn up the music! Treat me like a lady!”
Everything about the way that it spoke was wrong. When people talk, we do so with infliction.
This thing had no infliction. No tone. No soul.
I began to panic as it pushed harder against the door. I could hear its mechanical parts spinning rapidly each time it applied force. It began to pound again. The door wasn’t going to hold much longer.
As I wondered if I should give up and make a break for the front door, I noticed that the mannequin had stopped applying pressure. Unwilling to risk it, I did not let go.
I could hear it moving on the other side, lowering itself to the ground. I stood still.
My heart sank when it slid something under the door. I ignored it, not letting my focus stray from keeping the door shut. I sat there with a death grip on the door for what seemed like hours, but the mannequin made no further attempts on the door.
I could hear it rise to its feet, and leave through the window.
I was hyperventilating. With my head in my hands, I shifted my focus to the floor.
There before me, was Chance’s dry erase board, bearing only two words.
Please don’t

Welcome! Please read this before you scroll down any further.

Buyer pays for shipping; cost depends on zip code: tracking will be included. Will ship as soon as possible, no Saturdays. USA buyers only.

Holds: Items will be only held for 12 hours, no reply after those 12 hours means I am moving on to the next buyer. Payment must be made within that 12-hour time frame, otherwise the item will go to the next buyer.
Payment: PayPal F&F and Venmo
Other Notes:
All games are complete and the US version unless noted. Condition has been factored into the price. Pictures will be provided when and if asked.
I have 91 confirmed transactions on DigitalCodeSELL as of my most current post.
If you're local to the Schaumburg or surrounding area, I am willing to meetup at a location of my choosing.
Thanks for checking out my post.
​
Nintendo Switch
Skylanders Imaginators- $150
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Cowabunga Collection (Sealed)- $35
Killer Queen Black- $15
Indivisible- $20
Animal Crossing Nintendo Switch Console v2 (Brand new in box, box is heavily damaged, no joy cons)- $200
​
3DS
Jake Hunter Detective Story Ghost of Dusk- $35
​
Wii U
Lego Movie video game- $10
​
Wii
Resident Evil 4- $15
Sin and punishment star successor (Sealed)- $50
Legend of Zelda Skyward Sword (Complete with bonus disc)- $30
Super Mario Galaxy Nintendo Selects (Some writing in the case)- $17
​
Xbox One/Xbox Series X
Rare replay- $12
Nba2k playgrounds 2 (Sealed)- $8
Rainbow six siege- $6
Life is Strange- $12
Call of Duty Advance Warfare- $6
Assassins Creed Valhalla (sealed)- $15
Dead or Alive 5 last round- $6
Mlb the show 22 (Xbox One Version) - $10
Mlb the show 22 (Series X version)- $10
​
Xbox 360
Nier (Sealed)- $55
Assassin Creed Revelations (No manual)- $6
Assassin Creed Rouge- $13
Dante Inferno- $15
Fairy Tale fights- $13
Tomb Raider underworld- $12
Dead Island- $6
Catherine (No manual)- $20
Dishonored goty edition- $10
Wet- $30
Shadows of the damned- $45
​
Ps4/Ps5
Days Gone (red box sticker on disc)- $12
Prototype collection- $55
Warriors Orochi 3 Ultimate- $25
Need for Speed Hot Pursuit Remastered (ps4 version)- $10
Deadpool- $50
Akiba Trip Undead and Undressed- $30
Mad Max- $12
Syberia 3- $12
Uncharted 4- $12
Uncharted lost legacy- $12
Exist archive- $12
​
Ps3
The Darkness- $10
Remember Me- $10
Killzone 2 (No manual and greatest hits) - $7
Killzone 3 - $10
Dead Island Escape- $8
Resistance (No manual and greatest hits)- $10
Resistance 2- $12
Metal Gear Solid The legacy collection- $55
Metal Gear Solid 4 (No manual)- $8
Demon Souls- $20
Heavy Rain (No manual)- $10
Beyond Two Souls (No manual)- $10
Valkyria chronicles- $10
Uncharted 1 (greatest hits)- $6
Uncharted 2 (greatest hits)- $6
Uncharted 3- $6
The Ico and Shadow of the Colossus Collection- $15
Hitman Hd trilogy- $25
Dragonball Z Battle of Z (No manual)- $25
South Park Stick of Truth (No manual)- $20
Call of Duty Black ops (large black sticker in corner on the front)- $10
Best of playstation network vol 1(No manual)- $50
Infamous Collection- $20
God of War Saga- $45
God of War Ascension- $32
Yaiba Ninja Gaiden Z- $12
Kingdoms of Amalur Reckoning (No manual)- $5
Disgaea 4- $14
Sly collection- $50
Sly Cooper Thieves in time (No manual)- $40
Jak and Daxter collection- $25
Ninja Gaiden Sigma (greatest hits)- $14
Ni No Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch (Greatest hits version)(No manual)- $6
Puppeteer (No manual)- $60
Tales of Xillia (No manual)- $14
Dragon Dogma Dark Arisn (No manual)- $14
Castlevania lords of shadow collection (No manual)- $50
Resonance of fate (No manual)- $20
Naruto Shippuden Ultimate Ninja Storm Generations- $16
Lego lord of the ring's combo packaging (No Blu-ray or insert)- $8
Eternal Sonata (Disc only)- $20
​
Amiibo (All are opened, no packaging, good condition)
Splatoon blue boy inkling (From 3 pack)- $8
Splatoon orange girl inkling (From 3 pack)- $8
Meta Knight (Kirby)- $17
Waddle- $15
Zero Suit Samus- $15
​
Video Game Statues
Half Life® 2: Headcrab Zombie Statue 1/4 scale made by Gaming Heads (Box is in rough shape, regular version) - $600
Tom Clancy's Ghost Recon Wildlands Santa Muerte Fallen Angel PVC Statue (Sealed In Box) - $50
​

Wants

• Paypal F&F
• Venmo
• Luigi Mansion 1 3ds (USA Version) (Prefer complete)
• Mario & Luigi: Bowser's Inside Story + Bowser Jr.'s Journey 3ds (Prefer complete)
• Mario & Luigi: Partners in Time DS (Prefer complete)
• Shin Megami Tensei: Strange Journey Redux 3ds (Prefer complete)
• Detective Pikachu 3ds (Prefer complete)
• Professor Layton vs. Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney (Prefer complete)
• Professor Layton and the Curious Village
• Professor Layton and the Unwound Future
• Professor Layton and the Last Specter

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My receiver, an Onkyo RZ630, has dual sub outputs. Both subs can be tuned a bit with the SVS having an app that seems to have more tuning options. I am not fully versed in using the SVS’s app but imagine I’d have an easier time tuning the SVS as a midrange driver if that makes sense. I know the best case is to use matching subs but I al looking to get the most out of what I already have. Looking forward to your ideas!

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​
It was left at his doorstep three weeks ago, in what might’ve been the sketchiest package delivery I’ve ever seen.
I imagine that the pair of lanky, neckbeard-sporting gentlemen nearly fractured their spines in the process of unloading the thing from their van. Ignoring the dolly, they opted to instead distribute its weight amongst themselves. They each clung to a side of the massive box and awkwardly shuffled across my neighbor's yard.
By the way their knees buckled with each step, I picked the mystery item for a refrigerator. Then again, I’d never known refrigerators to arrive encased in bright pink wrapping paper.
Before I continue, it’s important to note that my neighbor, Chance Wilkins, is mentally handicapped. He hadn’t always been that way, though. His mother, Sally, who owns the house, had shared a bit of information with me regarding his accident.
Years earlier, he had been run off the road by an absent-minded semi driver. He careened into a concrete toll booth at seventy miles per hour, crushing him within an inch of his life. Since the accident, Chance has undergone a dozen surgeries. Everything from reconstructive procedures to an emergency craniectomy as the result of a traumatic brain injury. Though he was able to understand everything that was said to him, he could no longer speak for himself. He would carry a dry erase board with him wherever he went. That way, he could easily and effectively communicate with anybody that he needed to.
Recently, his mother's health had taken a turn for the worse. Alzheimer's disease. It was decided that she would be relocated to a nursing home, and that Chance would try his hand at living independently. For the past few months now, that has been the case.
Living alone didn’t become an issue until about a week after Sally’s departure. I’d witnessed many of Chance's tantrums, but never to the extent that they ultimately got to. My bedroom window is no more than ten feet from his house, so I practically lived there with him. And I could hear fucking everything. Night after night, I’d be awoken by shrill screams, shattering glass, and slamming doors.
Thanks to the anonymity that Reddit offers, I can admit that I’m no angel, and that I wanted to knock on his door and politely ask him to cut the shit. I’ve got a full-time job that requires me to wake up no later than five in the morning and I cannot stand being deprived of my sleep.
However, I was warned by neighbors not to engage him when he gets that way, as it could lead to further issues. And as you can imagine, filing a noise complaint on a handicapped person is never a good look. The truth is, I don’t know what prompted Chance to act out. All that I know is that his tantrums seemed to temporarily cease upon the package's arrival. I’ve never been one to argue with a good thing, but I was damn curious about whatever the hell was in that box.
A few days later, as I was pulling into my driveway after work, I caught him just before he retreated indoors. My curiosity got the better of me. I cranked down the window of my shitty Ford Focus, and called out to him.
“Mr. Wilkins, the man of the hour!” I shouted.
“How are you doing today, man?”
He turned to face me. He was positively beaming. In all my years on Lloyd Street, and all my years of knowing Chance, I had never seen him smile so sincerely.
I smiled back at him.
“That's what I like to see! What's got you so happy, Chance?”
He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a marker.
He scrawled away on his dry erase board for a while before turning it in my direction.
I have been missing something for a very long time.
I didn’t know what he meant by this, nor did I have opportunity to inquire further. Without falter in his smile, he waved to me, spun on his heels, and walked inside.
I laughed to myself, as this interaction had turned out to be the most pleasant one I’d ever had with him. After all, a happy Chance leads to bountiful rest.
I slept soundly for the next week or sountil the music began.
I woke up in the middle of the night, sweating. My AC is broken. It’s on a timer and only spits out hot air most of the time. Annoyed, I reached over and opened my window.
I only noticed it as I was about to drift off again. From the direction of the Wilkins home, It sounded like somebody was playing a piano.
I looked at the clock.
2:58
Wonderful.
Chance had decided that three in the morning was the ideal time to get musical. I turned red. I was so aggravated that I bolted upright and leapt from the bed to grab my shoes.
As I put my jacket on, I noticed something that I hadn’t before. The Wilkins’ living room light was on.
I walked to the window and peered out, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever the hell he was getting up to in there. Through it, I could see the piano. My window is so close to their home that I could see the keys bouncing up and down on their own. Sally had mentioned owning a piano that reads sheet music, so I ruled any poltergeist activity out of the equation. Chance would have to answer for this himself.
Suddenly, he entered the living room. I noticed his dog walking sheepishly beside him. Its eyes were transfixed on a couch which faced my opposite. Much like my recent interaction with Chance, he looked cheery. He was smiling, even doing his best to dance to the music.
I sighed audibly, I’m sure.
Who would I be to interfere with such joy? Especially to a man who has been denied so much of it. I reassessed.
And then Chance did something that made me freeze.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a marker.
He walked to his dresser, retrieved his dry erase board, and he began writing.
I ducked faster than I knew I could move.
Had I been spotted?
I had that roller coaster feeling in my stomach. The feeling a person gets when they’re caught in a lie.
I slowly inched my way back up the wall and peered out the window once more. Chance’s dry erase board had turned to face me.
I love you
A strange feeling came over me.
Fortunately, Chance's gaze seemed to focus not on me, but on the couch.
There was somebody in that house with him. I returned my attention to the dog, who hadn’t moved a muscle. Her tail was tucked between her legs, and though she kept her head down, she refused to take her eyes off of the couch for a second. Certainly this person was unfamiliar?
I looked to the driveway, which remained empty. I had been home all weekend and failed to notice anybody other than Chance enter the house.
I took my shoes and jacket off and got back into bed.
As I stared at my ceiling, I thought about how none of this would be so strange if Chance wasn’t such a hermit. I had never seen him socialize with anybody outside of his immediate family. Regardless, he looked happy.
That night, I drifted asleep to the sound of Chance's laughter, which at the time, reaffirmed that I had made the right decision.
I was awoken again. This time by a crashing noise.
I looked at the clock.
It was four in the morning.
I heard the noise again, louder this time.
An odd, mechanical whirr droned from within.
Chance began yelling unintelligibly.
A chill shot down my spine.
What the fuck is going on?
A definite scraping noise slowly moved from one end of the Wilkins house to another.
I looked out of the window. Not a single light was on in the Wilkins home.
Thud…Thud… Thud…
I tried to collect myself.
Suddenly, the piano began to play itself again. And through the pitch-black darkness, I could make out the silhouette of a thin, very tall lady in Chance's living room.
She stood perfectly still before the piano.
Though I was in no danger, I could hear my own heartbeat pulsating through my temples.
I couldn’t look away.
And then she moved.
She made a break for the doorway, taking giant bounding steps. She moved as if she had no articulation below the knees. Like a circus clown on stilts. Despite this, she made ground fast, as evident by the pounding of her footsteps, which tore from the living room to the upstairs.
Chance yelled in protest. I’d heard that tone before. It's the same one he'd use when his mother would drag him out of the house for Church, or cook him something that he didn't like.
A few minutes later, I heard footsteps again.
The pair had walked back downstairs. They both made their way to the couch and sat down.
For thirty minutes I just watched as they sat there in the dark, with the same song playing over and over and over again.
After work that day, I saw Chance alone on his porch smoking a cigarette.
I got straight to business and pulled into his driveway. I thought long and hard about how to approach the situation, and figured it best to calmly talk it out.
Despite my preparations, I ended up spacing on where to begin, so I just went for it.
“Hey, Chance. Long night?” I asked
He made no attempt for the dry erase board.
He just sat there looking defeated.
“Listen, I’m not angry with you.”
Chance looked up at me, his eyes softened.
His lip began to twitch.
“It’s just that I’ve got a job. I need to wake up early and it's quite difficult to fall asleep while you're hosting a mosh pit in the dead of night.”
“Can we make a compromise? Let's say no piano parties after … eleven?”
That got his attention. He reached for his marker and began to write.
11:00 PM is a perfectly reasonable time to ask for some peace and quiet.
I hoped to god that he would agree to my terms.
Suddenly, Chance stopped writing. He paused for a second and looked up at me.
He erased his message and started over.
It only took him a few seconds.
He turned his dry erase board around so that I could read it.
Just take it, please.
I was taken aback.
I don’t know what sort of response I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that one.
“You want me to have your piano?” I asked
Chance nodded quickly, giving me a sort of half-smile.
I laughed. “Chance, I can’t take that from you.”
He made a face and raised his hands as if to say “Why not?”
“Well … I’ve got nowhere to put the thing. And I don’t want to take anything from you! I just came here to talk.” I said.
He began scrawling again.
Then sell it. I just want it gone.
He was putting me in an awkward position. I truly wanted nothing to do with his gift, as it seemed like a white elephant. However, I was starting to believe that the going rate for a self-playing piano may be worth my time.
I paused, thinking it over for a moment.
It seemed like a win-win. If I got the piano out of that house, I might be able to avoid any repeats of the previous night. Plus, some extra money in the bank always feels nice, right?
“It uh.. might take me a few days to get some people around. I can’t move the thing by myself.”
Chance looked almost offended. Quickly, he began writing.
His message was clear.
It’s got wheels. I'm stronger than I look.
The look he gave me was screaming “You’re a dick.”
And with that, we headed inside.
The place was an absolute sty. Sally’s gray wallpaper hung from the wall, shredded to bits.
The once spotless hardwood floor was coated in hundreds of black splotches, which I wasn’t eager to dodge with the piano. There were various sized holes punched through the walls, floors, even the ceiling.
“I like what you’ve done to the place.” I said.
Chance rubbed the back of his neck. He looked embarrassed.
We each grabbed an end of the piano.
“You sure you want to get rid of this, Chance? It looks pretty expensive.”
I reached down and pressed on a random key.
Just when I did, it sounded as if somebody started a car in the other room.
I jumped. Chance flinched.
“What the fuck was that, Chance?”
He shook his head back and forth rapidly.
I heard the same whirring as I did the previous night.
I got louder
“Chance, answer me please. What the hell is going on?”
Something began to move in the other room. Slowly, I heard it inch its way to the door.
Thud
The door flexed slightly inwards, but did not open.
I turned to face the direction of the noise. Ignoring my manners, I slowly began to walk towards it. I can’t explain the terror that I felt as I neared whatever was on the other side of that door. Just as I reached for the knob, Chance grabbed me by the arm.
I looked at him.
A single tear streamed down his face.
He tugged on my arm twice.
I stared back at him. He looked like he’d seen war.
He tugged on my arm again.
I couldn’t tell if he was warning me or pleading.
A slow scratching noise crept from the top of the doorframe to the bottom, chilling me to my core.
I agreed. I let him direct me back to the piano. Both of our hands shook as we guided it from his property to mine.
We exchanged goodbyes in the driveway.
I was about to finish the job myself. But just before I could push it inside, I noticed something. One of the piano's wheels was coated in the same black substance that covered the Wilkins’ floor.
I decided to spray it with a hose, as I didn’t want to get any closer than I had to.
It was only then that I realized what the substance was.
It was oil.
The rest of the week went smoothly. There was little noise from the Wilkins house, and I was sleeping just fine. It seemed that taking the piano off of Chance's hands worked out better than I expected it to.
I worked overtime last night. I didn't get home until nine, and I was absolutely dead.
After a shower, I decided to start off my weekend with a glass of whiskey.
For kicks, I loaded some of the Wilkins sheet music into the piano.
I listened to various songs for about an hour before I came across one that was far more worn than the others.I figured that probably meant that this specific song was a favorite in the Wilkins household. I was correct.
The song was called Lament. It was the same one playing in Chance's living room the previous week. Right about that time, the whiskey had made its way to my bladder. I slightly turned the music up so that it could follow me to the restroom. I had a little more than I should have, as walking in a straight line had become troublesome.
Something in my peripheral vision caught my attention. Through my bathroom window, I could make out the shape of a lady in Chance's living room. Though she appeared to be staring back at me, I could not make out her face in the darkness. She swayed back and forth at the hips slowly.
As I finished up, I walked to my lightswitch and flipped it off, but I did not leave. I just stood in the bathroom, shrouded in darkness.
What is with this bitch?
I got a sickening feeling as she slowly tilted her body backwards and slammed her face through the glass. I could now hear the noises she was emitting. Every motion she made was matched by a wet, hydraulic screeching.
I stood still as she advanced. Taking long strides, she clumsily made her way across Chance’s yard and into mine. As she approached my house I was able to make out her face.
Only then did I make the connection. The thing standing in my yard was no person. It was a mannequin. An inanimate object.
Despite that, it seemed to be searching for something, for no movement it made was without purpose.
I backed into my hallway. I didn’t know what to do.
Is there a correct person to call in a situation like this?
I reached into my pocket to grab my phone, but it wasn’t there. I must’ve left it on the piano.
The thing's head slowly buzzed in a semicircle until its eyes were fixed on me. I doubted that it could see me through the darkness, yet it seemed to stare right through me. Just then, it lunged at me, breaking into a sprint. I slammed the bathroom door and held it shut as the mannequin came crashing through my window. I heard it writhing about on the floor before clambering to its feet. It began to beat the door down.
Between strikes, it’d push against the door. I could hear the wood beginning to splinter.
And then it spoke.
“ Treat me like a lady!”
It sounded like it spoke through a synthesizer.
“Turn up the music! Treat me like a lady!”
Everything about the way that it spoke was wrong. When people talk, we do so with infliction.
This thing had no infliction. No tone. No soul.
I began to panic as it pushed harder against the door. I could hear its mechanical parts spinning rapidly each time it applied force. It began to pound again. The door wasn’t going to hold much longer.
As I wondered if I should give up and make a break for the front door, I noticed that the mannequin had stopped applying pressure. Unwilling to risk it, I did not let go.
I could hear it moving on the other side, lowering itself to the ground. I stood still.
My heart sank when it slid something under the door. I ignored it, not letting my focus stray from keeping the door shut. I sat there with a death grip on the door for what seemed like hours, but the mannequin made no further attempts on the door.
I could hear it rise to its feet, and leave through the window.
I was hyperventilating. With my head in my hands, I shifted my focus to the floor.
There before me, was Chance’s dry erase board, bearing only two words.
Please don’t

I am an ISFJ - https://www.reddit.com/usefoxxyfafalove99/comments/128x9dz/which_do_i_seem_most_likely_to_end_up_in_a/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf
View Poll

First, this might not be the best place to look but here I am. I've tried dating apps before and it seems like swiping is mostly based on physical appearance instead of who would be a good match.
Second, I have cats so if you're not a cat or at least an animal person, hope you're not allergic.
Third, I'd like to establish trust first with no lies, games, or pressure and meet in real life, not online or long distance, with the goal of a ltr.
Fourth, for those who are bad at communicating or can't keep a conversation for more than a day, its better to just not contact me at all. Communication is a two way street and we all have busy lives, but it literally takes a few seconds to let someone know what's going on, especially in an era where everyone is glued to their phone's screen.
And if you've read this far great! A bit about me, I'm Latino born and raised in Socal. I rarely drink, dont smoke or do drugs, non religious, apolitical, no kids and never married. While I may not have it all together, I have a full time job, a car, good credit, savings account, pay my own bills, do my own laundry and cook my own meals, so that's gotta count for something.
Im somewhat a homebody, especially during the work week, except for weekends where I'll be outdoors like the beach or mountains, hiking, street fairs, new coffee / tea places, shopping for cat tees, movies, museums, Halloween cons and the occasional concert / day trip. I've been told I have that "elder emo" look to me although I don't think so. https://imgur.com/a/aviOnLg
My sense of humor can vary. I can be sarcastic and have a tendency to jokingly give someone a hard time especially if i like being around them.
I'm big on music although I'm more into alt, punk, and metal than any other genre but I've been to a wide variety of concerts and can generally listen to anything with good lyrics or beat.
About you:
Single with no kids
Age 27-37
Has a car and a job
Local to the socal SGV area
Similar wants, likes, and interests
Positive attitude
Good with communication
Does not base relationships off of qualities out of one's control such as zodiac signs or height
Not looking for a rebound, side piece, enm, ex drama, or in an "its complicated" situation.
While i try to describe myself as best I can, I'd rather focus on similarities rather than differences, and build on that. With that being said everybody has their definition of what they want in a person. For me it's: Someone who not only takes, but also gives. Someone who likes to talk, but can also listen without judgment. Someone who isn't afraid to show affection. Someone who is willing to meet half way and compromise, instead of letting one person bear the load. Someone who does nice things out of kindness, not for reward. Someone who is going to have my back no matter what, not turn their back on me when times get tough.
There's a lot more to me and while I'm not perfect, I'm not looking for perfection either. We all make our own choices or decisions and I can honestly say I've got very little to no baggage and no exes in my life. I don't carry the past into my present or future and don't believe in keeping toxic / negative people around. Maybe that needs to be put out there too.
So if you think we'd be a good fit for each other, are looking for someone similar, and can put in time and effort to see where it goes send me a message with some basic info and we can go from there.